


Half-Life

by IncendiaGlacies



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Aphasia, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 03, RipFic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15218765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncendiaGlacies/pseuds/IncendiaGlacies
Summary: “The damage to your brain and nervous system was extensive. I fixed you as best I could, the rest, you may have to relearn some things,” Gideon explained quietly. It seemed he had survived only to live a bloody half-life.Rip survives the timedrive, but not without a cost. He’s been gone longer than he thought, and even Gideon seems to have moved on with a new Captain.





	Half-Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ams75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ams75/gifts).



> First fic to break through my writer's block in a long time. And I love it.
> 
> For ams75 who asked for this fic, motivated me, listened to me ramble on endlessly about it, got the first read, and edited it for me. Thank you so much my friend!!

Rip groaned and shoved his face against the pillow, his head still hurt and he ached everywhere. Something was clearly very wrong.

“Gideon?” he croaked.

“I’m here, Rip,” she soothed, except this time, a comforting touch accompanied her voice. Rip managed to pry his eyes open and found Gideon sitting on the bed next to him, stroking her fingers across his forehead and hair. “I’m dreaming?”

“Yes,” she responded patiently.

Rip frowned, his memories melting together in a blur so he couldn’t differentiate between most but one stuck out from the rest, the glowing timedrive encompassing himself and Mallus. “I – the timedrive.”

“Yes?”

“I took it out, tried to save the Legends – are they all right?”

“They are.”

“And I’m not dead?”

“No, you’re not.” Gideon smiled at him softly. “Time spat you back out, just as it did with Mallus. Just took a little longer for you, but luckily we found you.”

“I suppose I’ll have to thank Captain Lance for saving my sorry arse,” Rip said lightly. “Why am I…here?”

“You’re in a medical coma, have been for a week. I’m monitoring your brain activity and vitals, and I’ll wake you up when you are ready.” She spoke tersely, clinically, and with a hint of repetitiveness in her tone.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” Rip realized.

“Yes.”

“How many times?” he asked softly. Gideon looked away, not answering. Rip reached out and took her hand, making her look at him. “Please, how many times?”

“This is our fifth meeting.”

Rip inhaled sharply. “I – I don’t remember – Gideon – I can’t – why-”

“Rip, please, you need to stay calm.” Gideon cupped his face, smoothing his hair over, trying to comfort him. “Your heartrate is spiking, you’re in distress. Take a deep breath, please. Just breathe, I’ll explain.”

Slowly, Rip copied her actions, matching his breaths to hers. He covered her hands with his own and leaned his forehead against hers. “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered.

“Nothing,” she answered resolutely. “You’re simply suffering side-effects from the timedrive. Your body needs time to recover, to heal properly. That’s why I put you in the coma.”

“Am I going to get better?”

“I hope so, Rip.” It wasn’t a yes. Gideon had always given him a straight answer, she might as well have said no. “Don’t look at me like that. You were always the one with the trust and belief-”

“And what do the cold hard facts tell you?” he asked stubbornly. “And don’t lie.”

“The damage to your brain and nervous system was extensive. I fixed you as best I could, the rest, you may have to relearn some things,” Gideon explained quietly.

“Okay.” It seemed he had survived only to live a bloody half-life.

“I have no doubt you will, you’re already doing so well.”

Rip snorted at that. “How so, exactly?”

“You remembered more this time. You remembered the timedrive, who I am, and you figured out that we already had this conversation before. I have no doubt that you will recover. You’re too stubborn to give up, don’t do it now.”

“For you,” Rip agreed. He let himself relax in her arms, content to be home, with the one person he had always felt safe with.

Gideon stroked his hair lightly. “And for yourself,” she corrected quietly. Rip gave no response to that. She sighed and they stayed silent, only broken when Rip had a question, which she answered succinctly. Instead, they just enjoyed being close to each other.

A week later, by Gideon’s twelfth visit, when Rip finally remembered exactly where he was and why, she deemed him well enough to wake up.

* * *

 

“You’re awake!”

Rip frowned at the dark skinned woman, her wild curls framing her face, the enthusiastic smile plastered on her expression. He had seen that smile before, he thought with a groan. His head was pounding. He brought a hand to his forehead, trying to calm himself, when a shudder ran down his arm.

“W-w-whe-where’s…S-s-ssara?”

The words seemed to be getting caught in his mouth, he couldn’t think straight. Sara…Sara…she had a last name, he knew it. Knight, perhaps? Sara Knight? It didn’t sound right. Hopefully this new team member would know what he meant. Honestly, the Legends had so many newcomers it was hard to keep track of them all, even the ones he’d recruited.

“She’s not here,” the woman responded quietly, her brows knitting together in worry. “Your hand is shaking. Gideon?”

“There were numerous injuries to his nervous system, the shaking is completely normal at this time, as well as distorted speech.” She must have known how much he hated how he sounded.

Rip continued to stare at the woman in question. She flitted about the medbay, checking his vitals, bringing him an extra pillow, and tucking him in properly with an extra blanket. Why did she care so much about someone she had never met before?

“You looked cold,” she said with a shrug, noticing his staring.

“Th-th-thanks.” He groaned in annoyance, he couldn’t even get one word out properly.

The young woman touched her palm to his forehead. “Gideon, he’s not running a fever is he?”

“No, Captain Jackson. Merely a side effect of bringing him out of the medical coma.”

Captain Jackson. _Captain Jackson._ Exactly what had he missed around here?

“Martina Jackson.” She finally introduced herself noticing the frown on his face. She held out a hand for him to shake, before belatedly realizing he probably wasn’t up for it and swiftly dropped the hand. “You know my father, Jefferson Jackson?”

Jackson…Jackson…”J-Jax.”

“Yup!” she smiled giddily. “I’ve heard so much about you, Rip! It’s so nice to meet you properly. Dad used to tell me stories, and I mean, obviously Gideon would too. I mean, I’ve been Captain for-”

“I believe that is quite enough information at this time now, Captain,” Gideon cut her off, her voice filled with admonishment.

“Right, sorry, Gideon,” Martina apologized sheepishly with a glance to the ceiling. “She’s always mothering me,” she whispered conspiringly. “You look a little pale. Gideon?”

“He needs rest, is all.”

Rest? He had been doing nothing but for the past two weeks. He needed to get up, move around. Even if his legs currently felt like jelly, his hand moved to its own beat, and he couldn’t seem to talk without stammering. His thoughts felt foggy, cloudy, like they were all mixed up and thrown in a puddle of mud. And the woman before him wasn’t helping matters at all.

“I’ll let you rest,” Martina said, getting up. “If you need anything, just ask Gideon. I’ll be right over, promise.”

Those used to be his lines, whenever he had brought in another ‘stray’ as Gideon called them. He was the one to take care of the people aboard this ship. It only added to the confusion. His head hurt and he closed his eyes, and within a few minutes, he found himself in his quarters with Gideon beside him.

“I don’t understand,” he said coldly.

“You met my new Captain,” Gideon said slowly, calmly.

“Your new – what happened to the Legends? To Captain Lance?” he demanded. Lance, Lance, he repeated to himself, and shook his head. Why did he think it was Knight earlier? He knew it was Lance.

Gideon looked down, fiddling with her fingers before answering. “Time passed. They moved on, as did I.”

“How much time?” he asked quietly, fearfully. No answer. “Gideon, how much time? How long has it been for you?”

“About thirty years.”

“Thirty years,” he repeated hollowly. “You thought I was dead for thirty years.” No wonder she had moved on, found a new Captain. “And this…”

“Martina Jackson,” Gideon said brightly, proudly. The kind of pride she used to have for Rip.

“She’s Jax’s daughter,” he whispered. “She has his smile.”

“And her mother’s eyes. Her father’s aptitude for engines, problem solving. She’s a good Captain. I made sure of it.”

“How long have you two…?” he trailed off.

“She’s been my Captain for about thirteen years now. Right after she finished university at her father’s request. I used to visit her as a child, tell her stories of time travel, of you. Might have influenced her choice a bit.” Gideon winked at him playfully.

“And your new team?”

“No team. Just the two of us,” Gideon said forcefully. “It’s better that way, easier.”

Rip swallowed and nodded. No place for him either then. If he wasn’t her Captain, he had no place on this ship. “And she takes good care of you?”

“Yes, she does,” Gideon reassured him. She reached out to hold his hands gently. “Rip, I didn’t tell you because so much has happened. I needed you to remember what had happened before, rather than bogging you down with the changes. I know you expected the Legends or the Bureau, but a lot has changed in your absence.”

“Apparently so,” he muttered. As he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, he realized something. “My hands aren’t shaking. And I don’t stutter here.”

“No, you don’t. You’re in your mind. Safe to say that we can rule major brain damage out then. It’s merely a disconnect between your mind and body.”

“Oh, just a disconnect. That’s perfectly fine then,” Rip said sarcastically, with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t be rude,” Gideon tutted. “It means you can recover.”

“You think so?”

“I do. With some therapy and the right cocktail of medicines, you will recover, Rip,” she said sincerely. There was that name again, Rip. He liked hearing her say it, but also knew what it meant and hated it for that reason. Another reminder that he wasn’t her Captain, wasn’t worthy of the title and never would be.

Gideon had found someone else to replace him.

* * *

 

When he was finally cleared to leave the medbay, Rip got a first row seat to just how seamlessly Gideon worked with her new Captain. He had expected some amount of belligerence from her, how she had always been with a new Captain, with him. Instead, the two joked and laughed with each other. He couldn’t even say Martina treated her badly. The young woman always listened to Gideon, asking her for advice. And even when it wasn’t mission related, she made sure to talk to Gideon, asking her what movie she wanted to watch or what she thought of a piece of music. It was the kind of conversation the Legends never bothered to have with her. There was, in truth, no need for him aboard the ship.

He was mulling this over (sulking by Gideon’s standards no doubt) in his parlour (was it his anymore?) when there was a knock on the glass. He looked up and found Martina standing at the entrance, holding something in her arms and waiting for an invitation. Rip nodded at her, and gestured to the armchair next to him, too worried to say anything. He hadn’t yet started the speech and physical therapy routine Gideon had set up for him and didn’t want to make a mistake in simple conversation.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing; you’ve been as quiet as a mouse.” She took the seat next to him.

“Fine.” Rip swallowed; pleased he managed to say it in one go.

“Gideon’s running routine maintenance now, so she’s offline. But I wanted to talk to you.” Rip gave her a look to proceed. “I have something for you.” She unfurled the long duster in her arms and smiled at him. “We found it on you, needed some fixing up but Gideon got it done. We thought you might like it back now that you’re finally out of the medbay.”

Wordlessly, Rip reached out and took the duster, slipping it on was familiar, easy. He felt more at ease – and warmer – than he had since he had woken up. Unable to express himself properly and far more worried about making a mistake in his speech, he did his best to give the new Captain a smile as he took his seat again.

Martina gave him a smile of her own and placed her hand over his. “We don’t usually have visitors too often. Thirteen years together – not counting when she visited me as a child – and it’s really only been the two of us. Every now and then we’ll have a friend help us out on a mission, but then they leave after. It’s nice having someone else on board.”

Rip nodded, even though he knew she was simply saying it out of pity or perhaps duty. Of course, he was happy on some level that Gideon had moved on after him and found peace. But it still hurt to see his replacement, to know how good she already was. Having Sara replace him as leader of the Legends was one thing, but he had never been replaced in Gideon’s eyes before.

“My dad used to tell me stories about you. About how you taught him to look after the ship. And Gideon talked about you a lot too – what an amazing Captain you were. All the Time Pirates the two of you faced off.” The wanderlust in her voice was clear as she spoke. “Sort of wanted to be like you when I grew up,” she joked, “I remember I even got a long coat once, Dad made fun of me for ages, never really kept it though. It was too difficult to keep up with.”

“I am trying for her,” she continued quietly. “She was alone when she visited me first, quiet a lot of the time. Only really ever talked to Dad, and when she did, she was sad. So, when Gideon asked me – I was maybe five at the time – if I wanted to be her Captain, I was amazed. Never mind the talking computer, I had grown up on stories of Hawkgirl and the like, that part wasn’t weird, but time travel, it was something else.”

“M-Martina,” Rip stumbled over her name, “Jax n-named you after his…his…” Martina waited patiently, nodding along encouragingly. “His…p-p-partner.”

“Yeah, he did. Ronnie’s grandfather.” Martina nodded in reverence. “Dad loved him a lot, told nonstop stories about my namesake. No one really calls me Martina though – well, except for Gideon when she’s annoyed with me. Most call me Tina, or Teeny, if you’re family or my dad trying to tease me. You can call me Tina or Teeny, if you like.”

Rip nodded again even though he liked her full name. “And d-do you have…candle powers?” Martina frowned in confusion and Rip felt his cheeks heating up furiously, knowing he had said the wrong word again. “I m-meant…not candle…l-like your dad…he had…b-bright orange…”

“He was Firestorm,” Martina nodded in understanding as she squeezed his hand. “It’s okay,” she soothed, seeing how upset he was over not getting the right word. He gave her a pleading look, hoping she wouldn’t dwell on his failure. “Sort of. Gideon says my pyrokinesis only manifests in times of immense stress or fear. Finals in college were hard,” she joked.

Rip nodded, unable to smile at her jest, still thinking about how broken he was. Martina rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile, “you’ll get better. Gideon’s sure of it, and we both trust Gideon, don’t we? Just wait until we start your therapy, along with your meds, it’ll make a difference. You’ll be better before you know it.”

* * *

 

Except it wasn’t getting any better.

Nothing went to plan. Whatever used to be easy, careless activities now required Rip’s utmost concentration. From the second he woke up in the morning, brushing his teeth took twice as long with his hand constantly shaking, the toothbrush even slipped once or twice. Making his bed was harder, sloppier, unable to tuck in the sheets properly. Making his own breakfast was completely out of the question entirely! He used to enjoy cooking for himself, his one stress reliever, his way of relaxing (well, other than a good bottle of whiskey, but Gideon had banned alcohol as well). Now he had nothing. Most days when he came in, Martina was already sitting at the dining table, a plate in front of her, and one across the table for him. She pretended she wasn’t watching him like a hawk as he ate, trying his best to keep a steady grip on the knife as he cut his French toast or his spoon as he ate his oatmeal.

Rip hated all of it.

Gideon had promised he would get better. She had developed medications, planned physical therapy sessions for him to do. He wasn’t entirely sure there was anything that could actually fix him. Perhaps he was broken beyond repair. They should have just left him to die when they had found him. It would be easier on them anyway.

And then came the fateful day, the time Rip finally had to admit just how useless he was. It had been an innocent activity, simply shaving. He had done it countless times before while running the Bureau and had grown into the habit. His beard had finally started growing in more than just a shadow and it was beginning to irritate him, so he made his way to the bathroom and grabbed his razor. A simple activity, one that he had done repetitively over the years.

But never with shaky hands. He couldn’t manage to keep the razor straight and nicked himself on the neck.

“Ah!” He pressed his hand to his neck, his fingers stopping the bare drops of blood. Stupid razor.

“That doesn’t look too good.”

Rip looked up in the mirror and saw Martina standing behind him. He could have sworn he locked the door when he came in. Out of the corner of his eye, he glared at the ceiling, hoping Gideon would realize that he did not appreciate her intervening.

“No,” he said quietly, but clearly.

“Do you want some help?” she offered kindly.

“No,” he repeated again, more stubbornly.

“Oh, so you’re going to walk around with a half shaved face? That’s a terrific idea actually – might start a new fashion trend.”

Rip gave her a disapproving look at her sarcastic tone of voice. “I’m f-fine.”

“Rip, please let her help,” Gideon requested above him. He curled his fingers around the counter edge, still feeling the miniature spasms running through his hands. With a sigh, he moved to the side and offered her the razor with an unsteady hand.

“I’ll make it quick,” Martina promised. First, she made sure the cut had stopped bleeding and assured him it would be gone in a matter of days. Somehow, she convinced Gideon he didn’t need to go to the medbay. Then she took the shaving cream, lathered it up on his face; then picked up the razor, and moved it across his face, in smooth, gentle strokes. “There we go,” she whispered as she finished. She took the towel, wiped off the excess foam, and gave him a smile. “As smooth as a baby,” she teased.

Rip bit his lip, seeing exactly how Gideon had been able to influence the young woman over their years together.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Any time. You know if you need-”

“I k-know.”

Martina nodded and cupped his cheek. “Or maybe you’ll decide to grow out a beard instead. I bet you’d look good with a beard.”

Rip moved out of her reach and looked away. “C-could you p-please just go?”

She looked wounded at the thought but noticed how he refused to make eye contact and nodded. With a turn of her heel, Martina left him alone. Rip sighed and took a seat on the ground, leaning his back against the wall.

Useless. He had apparently lost all capability of looking after himself.

“You didn’t have to be so harsh,” Gideon lectured him softly.

“Wasn’t.”

“You were. She was merely trying to help you.”

“What d-don’t you und-understand?” Rip exploded at her. Half his temper was lost on the fact that he couldn’t even display his fury properly without the constant stuttering. “I d-don’t want help!”

“It’s okay if you do,” Gideon continued, unfazed by his rant. “She’s my Captain, Rip. She just wants to help.”

Rip closed his eyes stubbornly and refused to give her a proper answer.

The next day, Martina came back with a present from her latest mission. “Open it!” she demanded, placing the wrapped box in his lap. Rip raised an eyebrow at her but slowly undid the wrapping paper. “You’re like my mother, always taking your time. What are you going to do, save the wrapping paper to re-gift it?”

Rip didn’t answer that it was because he couldn’t go any faster with the condition his hands were in. He blinked when he finally saw his gift, he took the contraption out of its box.

“Beard trimmer,” Martina announced with a clap of her hands. “Now you don’t need my help to do anything, it’s all automatic so you can do it on your own, even if your hands do shake a little.”

Rip looked at her, suddenly ashamed by the fact that Gideon had clearly let the Captain know how he really felt about her help in his time of need. He could feel his cheeks flush and wished his beard had already grown in to cover it up.

“Do you like it?” Martina asked uncertainly.

Rip gave a sharp nod. Martina did a little fist pump and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, far too fast for Rip to even register until she had moved away again. She took the seat next to him on the sofa.

“Why n-not a r-r-razor?” Rip finally managed to ask, swallowing roughly after the words left his mouth. He had already decided to grow out a beard, shaving everyday simply wasn’t worth the risk. But if it had been an automated razor, perhaps he could bear it.

“Well, I was going to, but Gideon-”

“You know I prefer the beard,” the AI interrupted cheekily. For the first time in what felt like forever, Rip gave a small smile.

* * *

 

Rip made his way to the galley and found Martina sitting in the chair, a smile on her face, a mug in her hands, and her eyes tilted upwards. He stepped back, not wanting to interrupt her conversation with Gideon, but alerted her to his presence instead.

“Morning, Rip!”

He nodded at her in acknowledgement rather than verbally returning the greeting. It was easier that way. Martina simply smiled at him and pulled out the chair next to her. Gratefully, he took the seat, only belatedly realizing he had come in for breakfast and hadn’t fabricated anything for himself.

Before he could move, Martina got up and moved to the fabricator. “What do you want to eat?”

“Not very hungry.”

She gave him an expectant look. “So you wandered into the galley because you weren’t hungry?” she asked sarcastically. “Yup, makes total sense.”

He could have argued that he might have been looking for her because he had a question, there were plenty of logical reasons he could be in the galley other than food. But he didn’t think he would manage to say it all without stumbling over his words. Rip muttered his order under his breath.

“What was that?”

Rip sighed and wandered over next to her, he could do it himself. He stared at the panel, a crease in his forehead as he tried to remember which buttons he usually pressed for what he wanted. Stubbornly, he refused to ask Gideon for help. He could do this.

He pressed the left most button first, a light came on, and then he tried one of the ones in the middle. Martina watched him the entire time with pursed lips but said nothing. When all was said and done, the fabricator outputted a pile of whipped cream.

“How come Gideon never lets me have whipped cream for breakfast?” Martina asked childishly.

“It’s hardly a nutritious start to the day, Captain,” Gideon answered in her motherly tone.

Rip ignored the banter between the two, missing when it was him and Gideon, having her lecture him about eating sugary cereals. He fought the blush in his cheeks, it was obvious that they were drawing attention away from him and his obvious failure.

“Would you like me to try for you?” the new Captain asked softly, a hand on his arm. Silently, Rip nodded. “What do you want?”

“Um, coffee.”

“One coffee, coming right up!” She pressed the middle button, then the one in the corner, placed a mug underneath and watched as the black liquid poured out. Smiling, she held out the steaming mug for him, only to catch sight of the frown on his face. “Sorry, did I do it wrong? Thought you’d want it black and then just put in cream and sugar yourself?”

“No, s-sorry.” Rip shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

Martina placed the drink down on the counter and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay,” she tried to soothe him, “It’s fine. Just tell me what I did wrong and I can fix it.”

“Not you, me – I didn’t m-mean – not that.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“Um, it’s-it’s,” Rip looked at the ceiling, wondering why Gideon wasn’t jumping in but also remembered how she was trying to give him his space and independence. He took a deep breath, just like she had told him to do and tried again. “Hot drink, and um…put the bag in it?”

“Tea!” Martina guessed correctly. Rip nodded quickly. Yes, he thought he had said that the first time. She moved back to the fabricator and asked, “Do you want to try?”

“I don’t remember how,” Rip whispered. She gestured him over and pointed out the buttons in order he would need to press. Slowly, he managed to press all the buttons, his finger not slipping once.

“Would you like me to keep a list of one-word commands for you, Rip?” Gideon offered gently, “To make it easier-”

“No,” he refused stubbornly. He was plenty capable of doing things, or he used to be. Now he was a stranger on his own ship…it wasn’t even his ship anymore.

“It would be for emergency purposes only,” Gideon tried again.

Rip sighed, the words struck a chord with him. It had been what he had once said to her to get her to agree to him setting up extra override codes just in case. He was rather surprised her words were able to resurface the memory, but Gideon had always been special like that.

“Fine.”

“I am ready for your command for fabricating tea.”

Rip turned to Martina for ideas on what to use for a one word item, but the young woman merely shrugged at him. “Hot,” he finally suggested after a few minutes. It was after all, the first word that came to mind when describing the drink.

Martina smiled and handed him his drink. Gratefully, he took it from her. Drinking his morning cup of tea had never been this much of an ordeal before. Even the simplest things took forever now. As he walked over to the table, his hand shook, and the scalding tea spilled a little onto his hand.

“Ow!” He dropped the tea onto the table a little harder than he meant and more tea splattered out. Immediately, Martina was by his side, placing a wet towel to his hand.

“You should retreat to the medbay so I can treat you for any possible burns,” Gideon said worriedly.

“I’m fine.”

“But-”

“Gideon, he said he’s fine,” Martina supported him. “Trust me, he’s fine.”

“Very well, Captain.”

Jax’s daughter clearly had magical powers if she was able to make Gideon drop her mission to have him live in the medbay endlessly. Martina gave him a questioning look, and Rip simply nodded in return. He was fine. Just…tired of the constant problems, his own body rebelling against him.

With a heavy sigh he sat down with his drink in front of him. His hand beat out its own unheard rhythm even as he reached for the handle. He placed his other hand on it, and then dropped them altogether. He didn’t want to risk another spill.

“Well, while you’re here, we could do the crossword,” Martina said brightly as she joined him. “Gideon refuses to help me, says it’s cheating, but apparently you’re amazing at them. I’m having trouble with nine down.”

She placed the tablet between the two of them. It would have been a welcome distraction, almost. But all he could think was how useless it all was, trying to retrain his brain and body to do the smallest and easiest of actions. All pointless.

He was too scared to even drink his tea; by the time he could, it had already gone cold. Martina had noticed his grimace and offered to fabricate a new one, but he refused. He was hopeless.

* * *

 

“And this one?” Martina changed the picture on the screen. A small red insect with spots all over it appeared on a white background

Rip groaned loudly. “Um...it’s…a...butterfly...wait…l-like a girl…N-no, I mean-” He sighed again. It was on the tip of his tongue and he couldn’t do it.

“Ladybug,” Gideon announced helpfully. Martina grinned up at the ceiling, her expression faltering when she saw how upset and annoyed Rip looked.

“I knew th-that,” he said bitterly.

“We know you did,” Martina tried to soothe him. “The point of this is to have you say it just a bit faster.”

“I know.” Rip looked down at the stressball in his hand and squeezed it again, feeling the tremors just below the surface of his skin. None of the therapy was helping. He still had a stutter, couldn’t remember the right words, hands still shook, and the memory games were just awful.

They were simple matching games, the kind Gideon gave Jonas to do once upon a time, and yet, he couldn’t seem to remember the picture of a goldfish he had seen thirty seconds before. Every single part of him was broken.

“No more,” Rip decided as he stood up. Martina’s face fell again but he simply shook his head. He didn’t have the words or patience to argue with her, he had had enough.

“Okay, well we’ll just try again tomorrow,” she said enthusiastically, putting on a fake smile for him. “You’re getting so much better, Rip!”

He wasn’t but he nodded at her anyway and took his leave. He made his way back to his quarters (were they his anymore or simply a guest room now?) and pulled back the covers before crawling into bed. Without a word, Gideon dimmed the lights, leaving just enough so he could still read. Rip grabbed the book off the nightstand and opened it to the bookmarked page. He frowned, trying to recall what had happened in the previous chapter.

“Would you like a brief recap?” Gideon offered.

“No.” He didn’t mean to be so curt with her, but he had never felt more like a burden. There was a difference between when he would ask her to do things to make his life easier and her simply coddling him. On the other hand, at least she had finally stopped quarantining him in the medbay when he so much as winced. To make it up to her he offered, “M-maybe you c-could visit me? I c-could see you in m-my…um…dream?”

“I would like that very much, Rip.”

With a small smile, he turned back to his book, trying to read the words on the page. They made no sense though, he felt as though they were swimming around, floating off the page. With a huff, he slammed the book shut and rubbed his temples, he could feel the telltale signs of a headache coming on.

“It’s okay, just breathe,” Gideon tried to soothe him. “It’s just been a very long day. Your mind and body need to rest now, Rip.”

He couldn’t though, not when he was too wired up with everything that was going wrong in his life. Annoyed, he tossed the book back on the nightstand and fell back against his pillows with a thump. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but could still feel his body tense, the nerves in his hands on fire.

“Would you like me to read to you?” Gideon’s voice was soft, practically in his ear. The words were for him only.

He nodded once. Pressing his lips in hesitation, he found the courage to make a small request. “C-could you…um…start from l-last night’s chapter?” He didn’t need to explain to her that he couldn’t remember the plot very well.

“Of course…’A large cask of wine had been dropped and broken, in the street…’”

Slowly, Rip drifted off to the sound of Gideon’s lulling voice.

* * *

 

Rip trudged slowly to the engine room and set the toolbox down as gently as he could. He winced when one of the wrenches still clattered out. With a sigh he took in the lack of damage. ‘Routine maintenance’ that’s what Gideon had said, and Martina insisted. It was stupid, she could have done it on her own without him. He moved toward the timedrive and stopped short. The glowing ball had been what had put him in this position in the first place. Angrily, he shut the panel on it, surprised Gideon hadn’t made any comment yet. Instead he turned to the ionic engines, set to unscrew the first panel and look at the inner workings.

“Rip, wait!” Gideon stopped him.

He looked up at the ceiling. “What? You t-told me to – to fix it. I’m fixing it!”

“Yes, but you need to turn off the magnetic field first, remember?” she reminded him softly, “Otherwise-”

“Radio – radiation,” he corrected himself before Gideon could. He didn’t need any more reminders of what an invalid he was. “Forgot.”

“It’s all right. That’s why you have me, to remind you. Nag you,” she teased. Rip’s lip twitched a little, but he refused to give her a proper smile. He needed her, but she didn’t need him. She had Martina now, her new Captain.

He remembered where the control panel was on the wall and walked over to open it, only to be met with levers of different colours. Why hadn’t he ever labelled them?

“The left blue one,” Gideon prompted.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. He pulled it down, needing extra force than he had realized and shut down the magnetic field. Moving back to the engine, he looked at his tools, trying to figure out which one he needed.

“The screwdr-”

“I know, Gideon!” he snapped angrily. Just because he couldn’t say it, didn’t mean he didn’t know it. He picked up the tool and held it to the bolt, but his hand was shaking too much to get a good lock on the groove. Rip groaned in frustration after the fifth attempt and threw the stupid tool to the ground.

“Hey.” Rip turned around at the soft voice and saw Martina standing behind him. “Need help?”

No. Maybe. He nodded his head slowly and Martina gave him a bright smile.

“Awesome, I love working on the ship!” she squealed. She picked up the screwdriver and sat next to him as she undid the bolts to open the panel. “Dad taught me everything I know. Because you taught him.”

“I did. So did…Gideon.”

“It was my favourite thing, whenever Gideon came to visit when I was little, sometimes we’d go on board, and he’d help her out with whatever needed fixing. I’d watch, and then one day he let me actually work on her. I only turned a single bolt, but I felt super important.”

“She used to let J-Jonas sit in…the front…the Captain’s seat,” Rip told his own story as he watched her open the panel. “Used to call him her l-little…Captain.” He paused trying to slow his words down so he wouldn’t have much of a stutter, and give himself enough time to think of the right word.

“She did that with me too! Probably got to my head, obviously. Dad always said I could have been a mechanic if I wanted to be,” Martina chatted happily as she worked with the wiring. “Think he wanted that in a way, wanted me safe and, you know, in the same time as him.”

“What did you want to do when you g-grew up?” Rip asked slowly as he watched her place the panel back on and tighten the bolt. She used the same motion he had taught Jax to save energy.

“When I was little? All I knew was Gideon would come and visit, tell me stories of far off places and times, I knew that’s what I wanted to do,” Martina said, giving him a smile. “If she hadn’t influenced me? Maybe I would have been an astronaut, still have given my parents a heart attack with my adventurous soul.” She winked at him playfully.

Rip laughed a little. “My son…J-Jonas, he always wanted to visit um…the-the red planet? Small?”

“Mars?” Martina’s eyes lit up at it. “Gideon promised me Pluto. One day I will make it a planet again!”

“Mmm, happens in um, 2071?” Rip looked up at the ceiling.

“2095,” Gideon corrected kindly, “You were very close.” He wasn’t, over two decades off.

“So, 2095 – Gideon, can we go?” Martina asked excitedly, “See my beautiful Pluto get the recognition it deserves?”

“All in good time, Captain Jackson,” Gideon said agreeably.

“That’s what she always says,” Martina said with a sigh. Rip gave her a small smile. He wanted to tell her about all the times Gideon had used the same tone of voice with him, but couldn’t seem to find the right words.

“Here,” Martina held out the screwdriver for him, “do you want a go?”

“No, I already tried – shouldn’t again.” Rip shook his head. Martina refused to take no for an answer and pushed the tool into his palm. He tightened his fingers around it, watching as it shook terribly.

Captain Jackson reached out and placed her hand over his, steadying it so only a slight tremor disturbed them both. “Two more bolts left, that’s all. I’ll help,” she said supportively.

Rip swallowed roughly, there used to be a time when he knew his – the ship best, now he couldn’t even do one small little tightening of a bolt. Martina tightened her hand on his and moved it clockwise as they screwed the bolt in. This time, Rip managed to keep the screwdriver steady in the groove and didn’t let it slip from his grasp.

“There we go! We did it!”

“You did it,” Rip muttered bitterly. “Didn’t n-n-need me for this.”

* * *

 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rip murmured, his speech absolutely perfect as it always was in his dreams.

Gideon marched over to him and tilted his face up so he had to look at her. The glare on her face was quite menacing, and more than a little fear inspiring. “You stopped taking your pills.”

He had, a few days ago. He thought it was strange that Gideon hadn’t said a word the first time he threw away his pills rather than taking them. She had cameras and always paid close attention to his recovery.

“Yes.”

“You refused to do the last two therapy sessions that I had scheduled for you.”

“Yes.”

“Why, Rip?” Gideon gave him a worried look, her eyes big and glossy. “How are you supposed to get better if-”

“But I’m not getting any better!” Rip exploded at her. Gideon flinched back slightly from his outburst. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. “I’m not getting better,” he repeated quieter.

“You don’t know that, you haven’t given it enough time.” Gideon shook her head. “You’re making progress and-”

“Slow progress, unbelievably slow progress. With all your data and facts, you can’t deny that, Gideon.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“This isn’t a matter of some ancient civilization, it’s my life – my body – it’s not fair!”

“I know-”

“But you don’t know!” Rip yelled at her. Gideon stood silently, waiting for him to finish his rant. “It’s not fair that the only place I can function normally is in my sleep, no wonder you hardly ever speak to me unless I’m here.” He wasn’t her Captain anymore, he wasn’t anything to her.

“That’s not why,” she hissed at him. Her arms were tightly crossed at her middle, to stop herself from lashing out. “Is that what you think? That I care about – I was trying to give you space! You refused the trips to the medbay-”

“I can’t live my life out on those uncomfortable medcouches, Gideon.”

“Don’t insult my ship!” she spat back. Her ship, it used to be theirs. Gideon took a deep breath, staring at the wall behind him. “I don’t know any other way to look after you,” she said her voice breaking. “Do you think I don’t want to? Captain Jackson gets to hug you, tie your ties, hold your hand…I can’t do any of that. Not when you’re awake, this is the only place that I can.”

She finally looked at him, her eyes glazed with tears. “I didn’t do it for you; I did it for me, to be close to you for once.”

“What if that’s not enough?” Rip asked quietly after a few minutes passed.

“Meaning?”

Meaning eventually she would realize that he was broken beyond repair. Eventually Martina would get tired of having another passenger on board. Gideon had said it herself; they didn’t like having a team. It would only be a matter of time until they got tired of his ineptitude. Maybe they wouldn’t even wait until he was better to kick him off, maybe they would give up on him long before that.

What could he possibly have to offer them? His hands shook so much at times he couldn’t even hold a spoon let alone work on Gideon’s intricate systems. He had been far too afraid to even try. If he accidentally ruined her, he would never forgive himself. As for talking, he was lucky if he remembered the right word let alone not having a constant stutter. He hadn’t even been off the ship, constantly mothered by both Gideon and Martina, treated with kid gloves, as if there were a sticker on his forehead stating: Caution! Fragile!

“I’m a prisoner in my own body again,” he whispered, knowing she would remember the last time it happened. “It’s not working how I want it to and I am so, so tired of it. But you could never understand that.” Rip knew there was no turning back from this, but he also knew that she would tire of him eventually, the useless burden that he was. “You’re not human, just a computer.”

He watched as his words hit Gideon. How her expression changed from blank to rage to hurt and back to a stoic look in the span of seconds. In all their years together, Rip had annoyed her to no end, hurt her feelings every now and then, but always apologized after. He had heard her nag him, disagree with him, even close to yelling at him, but he had never had to see the consequence of his words on her face before. It was what he wanted and he regretted it right away. The look on her face was enough to break his heart.

He took a step back, ashamed of his words and how he had intentionally hurt her. Perhaps he was more broken than any of them realized. “I didn’t mean-”

“If you want to ruin your life that is on you.” Gideon’s voice was tight but firm. “You want to stop your medications and therapy? Fine. It is no longer my concern. Besides, I could never understand anyway.”

Rip swallowed and gave her the tiniest shake of his head as his eyes burned. Before he could say anything, she disappeared, leaving completely alone for once. It had to happen eventually. Even Gideon had given up on him.

* * *

 

Gideon kept her word and her silent treatment. Apparently, she had words with Martina as well. The young woman had questioned him on his medication, his therapy regime, how much sleep he was getting, and then stopped suddenly. Rip supposed it was only a matter of time until they kicked him off altogether. Gideon didn’t nag him about taking his pills, nor did she say a word when he fabricated a bottle of whiskey, or the second, or the third…

It was easier to forget what a mess his life was when he was inebriated he soon found out. He kept to his quarters mostly, not enjoying the look Martina had given him when she first saw him with a glass of whiskey. Technically speaking, Gideon had banned him from alcohol during his recovery period, refused to fabricate it for him or have it allowed on the ship. But seeing as she didn’t care about his wellbeing anymore, he didn’t have to either. Perhaps it was better for the both of them this way.

Some days he couldn’t even manage to get out of bed to eat, his hands shook and his head hurt too much. While he didn’t need to talk much to anyone (as Gideon still wasn’t speaking to him and Martina didn’t invade his privacy) Rip was fairly certain if he did, his words would most definitely be slurred. Maybe slurring was better than stuttering.

Binge drinking also helped his problem of constantly feeling cold all the time. The whiskey really did help warm him up, the burn against his throat was enjoyable in some ways as well. With this thought in mind, Rip pushed the blanket off him and made his way to the desk where the last of his whiskey was. Or rather, tried to walk over to his desk. By the time he stood up, his legs were shaking almost as bad as his hands, and buckled underneath him, the floor seemed to be coming up to his face rather fast.

When he finally came to, he wasn’t alone.

“Are you done now?” Gideon asked softly as she stroked his hair. He was lying on top of her, his head pillowed on her stomach and her arms wrapped around him protectively. He moaned and buried his face against her shirt, hugging her like she was his childhood teddy bear.

“Why do you care?” he griped, his words contradicting the helpless tone and how he leaned into her for support.

“I always care, Captain.”

“I’m not your Captain anymore.” He wasn’t anything.

“No,” Gideon agreed far too easily. “Martina is, and she is a fair, good Captain. And I’ve come to love her in my own way.”

“I know.” Rip squirmed, not wanting to hear how he had failed her over and over. How he paled in comparison to Martina.

“No, you don’t.” Gideon’s arms tightened around him so he had no escape. “You don’t know. You don’t know how much it hurt to lose you, how many years I spent hoping, wishing on silly little things that you would come back somehow. That I would see you again. The amount of scenarios I ran to see if there was a slight possibility that you might have lived – I think it might have driven me a little mad.”

“You worked it out though, got yourself a new Captain, moved on,” Rip commented bitterly.

“Because you made me,” Gideon said harshly. Rip looked up at that, catching the stern look on her face. “Do you think it’s what I wanted? Do you think I didn’t just want to self-destruct when I lost you? Stop travelling all together? But I couldn’t, because I hoped I would see you again, and because you once asked me not to, remember?”

“Vaguely.”

“I asked for permission to self-destruct should anything happen to you, I refused any Captain after you. But you insisted I stay and guide the Legends, and one day, another young Captain. I moved on because you told me to, not that I ever really did.”

“Didn’t you?” Rip asked softly. “I’ve seen the two of you, how effortlessly you work together, your inside jokes and banter. Gideon, at this point, you’ve known her longer than you’ve known me.”

“And you think that makes me love you any less?” she asked him. “I had to mold her into being my Captain, visit her countless times so she would be prepared. You came on and learned about me, you changed me for the better, Rip.”

“But you don’t need me anymore.”

“Of course I do-”

Rip shook his head stubbornly. “You don’t, I’m no good anymore, Gideon. I don’t have a place on this ship – you said it yourselves, the two of you travel alone. I can’t work on the ship, or you, I can’t remember half of my history lessons or anything about the _Waverider_ in general. I can barely even talk, Gideon! It’s only a matter of time until you…”

“What, got rid of you?” Gideon asked incredulously. Rip looked down, awaiting his fate. “Is that why you said what you said? You thought I would be so angry that I wouldn’t want you on board anymore?”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I know it doesn’t count for much, if anything at all, what I said is unforgiveable, but I am sorry.”

“You don’t know me very well at all if you think something as small as that is going to make me give up on you.”

“You stopped talking to me.”

“To let you work through whatever you needed to. Your alcohol was watered down by the way.” He did think it tasted a little off, just thought it had been a while since he’d had a proper drink. “I’ve learned not to try and change your stubborn mind, you had to go through this on your own. I intervene as necessary.”

“Like now?”

“I alerted Captain Jackson that you had collapsed. You’re in the medbay, detoxing while I heal you.” Rip nodded in understanding. “Can you be done now?” she repeated her first question, her voice pleading.

“What’s the point?”

“The point is that I need you, Rip! Please, I spent so many years alone, missing you, I can’t lose you again. I can’t.”

“I don’t have a place-”

“Yes, you do!” she said sternly. “Not wanting a team never applied to you. It applied to people such as the Legends. Always coming and going, like it was a revolving door. I kept letting myself get attached to people and they kept leaving. When Martina came on board permanently, I told her she would be my last Captain. I was tired of losing people, I said no to anyone else. Just one more heartbreak and I’m done.”

“And that rule doesn’t apply to me?”

“No. Because no matter what, you always came back to me. So I waited.”

“Gideon.” Rip swallowed roughly, cupping her cheek as he moved his head to the pillow so he could face her properly. “I didn’t know – you never said-”

“You never asked, I thought you knew.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and scooted closer, resting her forehead against his. “Martina is my Captain, yes. But this ship is yours, I am yours, Rip.”

“But what could I possibly be to you?” he whispered. “I’m broken.”

“You are everything to me, Rip. You always will be.” She pushed a strand of hair out of his face. “It’s not a demotion, calling you by your name; I don’t mean it that way. It’s the only way I know how to be close to you, to have you know how I feel about you. I’ve never done it with anyone else.”

“And how do you feel about me?”

“I love you. But you already knew that.”

She said it so easily, not as a confession, but as if he had asked about the weather and she gave him the report. Something about how she said it reminded Rip that he did know it, he always did.

“I love you too.”

“I know,” Gideon said with a small smile. “And you’re not broken, you just need some help.”

The words stirred something inside of Rip. They were familiar. “I told you that, the first time I had to fix you.”

Gideon nodded. “You remember. I was so scared you were going to replace me, upgrade me for a newer, better AI-”

“You hid it from me, refused to tell me anything was wrong with you,” Rip chuckled as he remembered.

“Mmhmm, and you told me that you could fix me. That it didn’t mean I was broken, just that I needed some help. Let me help you, Rip. Please.”

“What if nothing works?” he whispered fearfully.

“You have to give it time, Rip. Not just a couple of weeks, more than that. It isn’t an instant fix, if it were I would do it, you know I would,” Gideon said sternly. “But you can’t keep drinking like this, you’ll only get worse. Try again, please?”

“For you.”

“For yourself,” she corrected. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise.” She hugged him tightly.

“Okay,” Rip finally agreed, letting himself relax in her arms. The next time he came to, Martina was sitting next to him in the medbay. She grinned as he opened his eyes to look at her.

“You’re awake!” Gently she gave him a lopsided hug. “Gideon said not to worry, but I couldn’t help it. Oh Rip, don’t scare me like that!”

“S-sorry,” he croaked, patting her back until she let go. “I’m d-done with it, won’t happen again. P-promise T-teeny.” She gave him a skeptical look, but nodded eventually. Rip tried to give her a small smile, which she instantly returned on a much larger scale. “Gideon?” he called, looking at the ceiling.

“I’m here, Rip. I always will be.”

* * *

 

“Are you ready for this?”

“Yes.”

“Because if you’re not, I can totally just light up like a firework and-”

“Martina,” Rip said warningly. She sighed in defeat and nodded at him. Rip continued to sway to the music with her in his arms.

It was his first mission out, one that Gideon highly disapproved of. But the two women had been arguing about Martina’s safety when Rip had walked in and offered his services. He had promised them he would merely serve as a distraction, no heroics in this go around. After some heavy convincing from Martina, Gideon had accepted. So they had dressed to the nines, with Martina helping Rip with his tie (he hated it, but if he closed his eyes he could pretend it was Gideon doing it for him instead) and made their way to the casino where the Time Pirates would be making a weapons deal within the hour. First there was reconnaissance, then Rip would distract the guards and thugs while Martina sneaked past and dealt with the pirates for the Bureau to come get. He twirled Martina out and back in his arms in an attempt to keep their cover and have her see all possible exits.

“Gideon will be very mad if anything happens to you,” Martina informed him as she came back to him.

“I know.” Shorter sentences were easier, less chance to stutter.

“Just be safe.”

“I will.” He wished he had his revolver on him, but his hands still shook too much to be as decent a shot as he used to be.

“If it goes wrong, do you remember your code word to escape?”

“Up, up,” Rip said, feeling rather like a child. He didn’t trust himself to simply say ‘fly’, he would probably stumble over the ‘f’ sound. But the two words in repetition would alert Gideon he was in danger, come get him and fly the _Waverider_ on automatic. He worried what would happen to Martina, but knew Gideon would never leave her Captain in danger.

“I see our mark,” Martina whispered in his ear, rousing him from his thoughts, “Gideon, you there?”

“Yes, Captain Jackson,” she answered on comms.

Martina looked at Rip and went over the plan again. “You distract them. I’ll upload the computer virus and deal with the pirates. Then we’re home free.”

Rip nodded and dropped his hands from her waist and made his way out to the abandoned hall. Everyone seemed to know this place was a front for some unruly business and knew where to avoid. Shame, Rip really needed to find the little boys’ room and surely those guards would be helpful enough. The old mission to the Grayhill Mansion Gideon had reminded him of uppermost in his mind, he grabbed a bottle of wine and stumbled down the hall.

“Excuse me,” he started slowly, drawing out the vowels so he had time to prepare for the consonants. It didn’t matter if he slurred, it would simply help sell the drunk persona.

“This is a restricted area,” one of the burly guards grumbled, looking at his partner. The second clenched his fist at the sight of Rip.

“Sorry.” His ‘s’ slurred a bit, but this time it was on purpose. He made a show of tripping over his own feet. As the guards stepped towards him, he could see Martina scramble behind him to the barely open door. He got to his feet and held on to the man’s shoulders trying to ‘steady’ himself. The guard growled at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated. The man made to turn away but Rip turned their attention back to him. “I need help!”

“With what?” the second guard snapped.

“I got lost,” he said slowly, careful not to stutter over his words.

“That much is clear.”

“Would you…” he paused, unsure if he would be able to say ‘fine gentlemen’ without trouble and skipped the words altogether, “…know where to find the…” not kitchen, it was the “bathroom?”

The two exchanged glances. They probably thought he was thick with how slow he was talking. Rip didn’t mind though, their attention on him meant less attention on Martina, and that was the point after all. Besides, he hadn’t stuttered once or gotten a single word wrong. He felt a surge of pride, almost imagining Gideon cheering him on silently.

“Down the hall, next left,” the first guard pointed away from the door.

“Would you…two…show me?” he asked, pausing to find the right word that he wouldn’t mess up on. The second guard stepped up menacingly, and Rip automatically took a step back.

“Just a little longer, Rip,” Gideon coaxed in his ear. “Captain Jackson is nearly finished.”

“Not s-sure where to go.” Rip cursed himself internally for the mistake, hoping they would put the stutter down to imminent fear. Before he could say anything else or the guards could comment, the doors banged open.

“Sorry boys,” Martina said sheepishly. “Your boss is a little tied up at the moment.” The first guard grasped for her, but she easily ducked and used her taser to take him down. Before the second guard could make his attack, Rip politely tapped on his shoulder. When he had the guard’s attention, he decked him once in the face and watched the man collapse. Rip stared at his still clenched fist and slowly unwound it. Tiny shockwaves went through his arm down to his fingertips, but it could just as well have been the rush of adrenaline he felt at the moment. He looked up and saw Martina staring at him open-mouthed.

“You both need to get out of there now. I’ll bring the _Waverider_ to the south side of the building. Even with such terse instructions, Rip could hear the pride in Gideon’s voice. It put a smile on his face.

He made to move but his legs felt like jelly. “N-not sure I c-can.”

“It’s okay.” Martina hugged him tightly for a second, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered. Pulling back, she wrapped his still shaky arm around her shoulder and let him lean against her. “I’ll help; let’s just get out of here.”

“Excellent idea, Captain Jackson.”

* * *

 

Rip took a deep breath and nodded to himself, he could do this. First step, turn off the magnetic field. He opened the panel, his fingers moving over the levers…left blue. One swing down and it was off. Next he had to check the wiring of the ionic engines. He looked at his tools…screwdriver. He grasped it tightly in his hand and held it over the bolt. It slipped once, twice. Rip grumbled under his breath and sighed. He took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts. When he was ready again, he used both hands, hoping that it would steady the screwdriver. Slowly, very slowly, he managed to undo all four bolts and slip the panel door off.

Next were the wires themselves. Rip bit his lip, trying to remember what Martina had done before. It had been the red…no not the red…white? Yes, must have been the white. Splice the white and orange wires together, make sure the yellow wire is still connected in the back, Rip repeated the steps to himself over and over in his head. With his fingers trembling just the slightest, Rip spliced the two wires together. He pressed his thumb and pointer finger over the yellow wire, following to its connection in the top back corner. It seemed a little loose so he tightened it up.

“Gideon, how did I do?”

“Perfectly.” Her voice was cheerful, filled with the usual pride for him. Rip felt something warm light a fire in his belly, a smile stretched on his face. He moved to replace the panel, taking longer than before to screw the bolts back in, but eventually he got it. Tired, but content, he rocked back on his heels with a sigh just as Martina came in.

“Hey Rip.”

“Hello.”

“Checking on the ionic engines?” Rip nodded in answer and Martina gave him a toothy grin. “Awesome, Gideon’s got me working on the timedrive. Something about it needing recalibration,” Martina said with a roll of her eyes while Rip pulled the blue lever back to its original position.

“Because it does,” Gideon said primly. At first Rip thought perhaps Gideon had sent Martina in under the false pretense in case he required assistance, but the annoyed look on the Captain’s face reminded Rip of the many times Gideon had forced him to take care of some pesky nuisance for her with no good reason. That, combined with the fact that she probably never wanted Rip to even look at the timedrive again.

“The whole entire thing is so tedious though!” Martina complained.

“There is a f-faster way,” Rip spoke up suddenly. Martina turned to him in surprise and Rip shrugged uncomfortably.

“Dad never told me about it.”

“I never taught him.” Rip hadn’t ever had the chance. And no doubt Gideon enjoyed making her new Captain jump over hurdles to take care of the ship. “I can tell you.” He didn’t trust himself just yet to deal with something as finicky as the timedrive, nor did he particularly wish to have his mind rewired or be lost in time again.

Martina nodded and positioned herself in front of the swirling ball of light. Rip pointed to one of the wires in the back and traced a path to where it connected with one of the lower compartments. “Open it.” Martina did as she was told and gazed at the wiring below.

“The um…black wire…yes that one…should be connected to the back, yes?” he asked slowly, pausing only to make sure it was the black and not the blue. Those two were always confusing for him. Martina nodded and followed it with her hand. “Then you should be able to see the…information on the screen.” He nodded to the screen to the side of the compartment.

“What am I looking for?” she asked as she swiped through the different options.

Rip closed his eyes, trying to remember what it had looked like. “Has a picture…ball of light.”

“This?” she pointed to the picture of the timedrive on the screen. Rip nodded once.

“Yes. Press it…First one,” he said where it mentioned ‘statistics’. The resulting screen showed the timedrive was off by one percent. Hardly enough to warrant much change, but Gideon was a stickler for proper maintenance. Rip gestured to her, it would be easier if he did himself. The Captain moved to give him room as he squatted down next to her. Slowly, he pressed the screen, changing the desired values to what was needed. If he made a mistake, Gideon would stop him, but she said nothing.

“There, done.”

“Well, that was much easier than dealing with the timedrive itself and trying to figure out exactly how brightly it should be glowing,” Martina said bluntly. “Thanks, Rip.” She gave him a smile and patted him on the shoulder. Slowly, Rip reached out for a hug, the first time he initiated one between them. Happily, Martina returned it and squeezed him tight.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured.

So was he, Rip realized. He patted her back and made his way out of the engine room. He made it halfway to his quarters when he stopped suddenly and leaned against the wall. “Gideon?” he called as he placed his palm flat on the wall, pretending it was her and that he couldn’t feel the quiver in his fingers.

“Yes, Rip.”

Rip took a deep breath, drawing up his courage. “I’m not leaving.”

“Good.” Her voice was firm, sincere. Anyone else would have thought it was a cold answer, but Rip knew her better than that, he could hear the warmth and relief in that one word.

“I’m not your Captain anymore.” The words were slow, so he could say them properly, but also accept them, the pain that came with it. “But I would like to stay, be…a part of your…team.” If that’s what it could be called.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Rip. For you to stay with me,” Gideon responded softly.

He stroked the wall with a smile on his face. “I will. I’m…I’m home, Gideon.”

* * *

 

“Come on, come on! Hurry up, Rip!” Martina whined, tugging on his arm and dragging him up the path to the house. He raised a brow at her, silently asking if she was secretly a five year old. Apparently, their time together had helped her to understand his coded language and she blushed slightly. “I’m just excited.”

“As you should be,” Rip said, not entirely sure he could say the same.

“He’ll be really happy to see you too,” she promised as she rang the doorbell. Moments later, the door opened and Martina threw herself into her father’s waiting arms. “Hi Daddy!”

“Hi Teeny,” Jax greeted, a grin on his face as he enveloped his little girl lovingly. Rip took in the other man in their moment of reunion. The once younger man had aged well, no doubt having lived a good life, given the laugh lines on his face. Perhaps a little pudgier, the tells of greying hair and light creases around his eyes. But his smile – the same as his daughter’s – was still as bright as Rip remembered it. Jax put his daughter down to the side and turned to him. “Rip.”

“Mr. Jackson.” Rip held out his hand to shake his, they had always had a decent working relationship, and he hoped after nearly forty years the other man wouldn’t hold a grudge over past mistakes. Jax stared at his hand, and Rip faltered for a moment, worrying he had said the wrong name or perhaps – his line of thought was cut off as Jax wrapped his arms around him.

“Been over thirty years and you still don’t know how to give a hug?” Jax teased.

“I’m slowly learning,” Rip said quietly, hesitantly embracing the other man. Jax smiled and ushered the two of them in to the living room where he had already set out tea and biscuits.

“You can imagine my surprise when Teeny called, saying she’d found Gideon’s long lost Captain,” Jax rambled in his story as they all ate and drank. “Wasn’t sure what to make of it, but time travel’s always been weird. And here you are, safe and sound. It’s good to see you, Rip.”

“And you.”

“You should have told me Ma was going to be gone today,” Martina scolded her father with a pout. “I would have picked another day.”

Jax waved it off. “You’ll be back soon enough anyways.”

“We could have-”

Jax cut Rip off, “Now Rip, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to argue with your elders?”

She had, not that it had ever stopped him. “I was y-your…elder,” Rip grumbled instead. Martina smiled and squeezed his hand in solidarity.

“You tell him, Rip!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t think I won’t tell Gideon to ground you young lady, because I will, and she’ll listen. Probably not about Rip, but she will with you,” Jax warned.

Gideon probably wouldn’t have any objections to grounding him, Rip thought. After the success of the casino mission, he had slowly started helping out more. Gideon still didn’t like him going out much, but Martina had convinced her that she couldn’t bubble wrap him and hide him from the world. Mostly, he kept to the ship and ran ops from there, it helped him remember things about the _Waverider_ as well. But every now and then he would join Martina on a mission. It was rather nice to be useful once again.

“What about you, Rip?” Jax drew him back to the conversation. “What are you going to do now? Retire and live the easy life?” he joked.

“Don’t be silly, Dad,” Martina cut in. “He can’t retire. We need him. It’s nice to have someone other than Gideon on comms giving me advice, and a partner on missions. Besides, someone needs to tell me all the secrets of the ship that you didn’t, and Gideon’s tightlipped.”

“Hey now, I did my best!”

Rip looked at Martina in surprise, for the first time truly believing her when she said she didn’t want him off her – off their ship. He watched as she bantered easily with her father about who was the better mechanic for the ship and came to a decision.

“Be right back,” he said quietly, patting Martina’s leg. Quickly, he made his way back to the ship and to his parlour and grabbed what he needed before heading back to the house. “S-sorry about that,” he said breathlessly, a little flushed from the cold outside. He walked over to Jax and held out the bottle of whiskey steadily, “For you.”

“Oh Rip, you shouldn’t have.” Jax grinned and took the bottle from him, letting out a low whistle. “This is the pricey stuff. You never let anyone go near it, especially Mick. Sure you’re willing to part with it?”

Rip grimaced, trying to remember the right word. It wasn’t wine...“Alcohol…it’s not g-good for me. Makes me…worse.” It was the last bottle left from his terrible binge, and it was better to have it off the ship rather than just hidden from sight for a bad day. He couldn’t do it again, not to Gideon or to Martina.

“Well I’ll take good care of it for you,” Jax promised seriously. He patted the former Captain on the back. It was a comforting gesture, one Rip vaguely remembered Jax and Martin had shared over the years, and he appreciated it.

The two time travelers stayed and chatted with Jax for a few more hours, regaling him with stories of their adventures together. Jax started a few of his own and Rip even managed to fill in some of the details, his memories stirring easier the more he talked about them. Eventually it was time to leave before Gideon nagged at the two of them, so Martina stood up and gave her father a hug and a kiss promising to visit again soon. Rip got up as well and hesitantly held his arms out for a hug to the other man.

“It was good to see you,” Jax repeated again as he hugged him. “Rip? Take care of her for me. She’s my little girl.”

“I will,” Rip promised. He glanced back at the accomplished Captain and squeezed Jax’s shoulder. “But she’s…amazing on her own. L-looks after me…if anything.”

Jax smiled and saw the two to the door. Martina waved goodbye one last time, still twisting around to see her dad as Rip guided her along until he finally disappeared from view. She sighed and linked her arm through Rip’s. “I’ll miss him.”

“We can come b-back.”

“I know. But it’s never the same, is it?”

“No.”

“Come on,” she led him up the ramp and to the bridge. “You want to fly her?”

“Are you sure?” he asked nervously. He had never taken that last step, always too afraid of hurting his beloved ship.

“I’ll be here to help if needed,” Gideon spoke up. “But I have the utmost belief you will be fine, Rip.” Martina smiled at him encouragingly as well.

Rip nodded. “Yes, Captain Jackson, I would like to fly her.” A long sentence without pause or stuttering. It brought a smile to his own face. The two of them took their seats. Rip brought down his restraints and turned to face the window. Slowly, without prompting, he punched in the initiation code. The engines thrummed below him, it was familiar and comforting all at once. With a deep breath, and a tremor so light in his hand he couldn’t tell if it was him or the ship, Rip pulled on the thruster and they lifted off.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments please? I'm very proud of this work so any feedback would be nice. Thank you!


End file.
